


Catharsis

by BlueflowersandWings



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: -Ish, Angst with a Happy Ending, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Light Angst, M/M, Nightmares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Canon, mentions of depression
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-29 00:04:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18767092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueflowersandWings/pseuds/BlueflowersandWings
Summary: **WARNING: this work contains serious Endgame spoilers, so if you haven't seen the movie yet, and don't want to spoil your experience, then do not read any further."We never know just how much we have, until we've truly lost it," Pepper smiled a sad, lost smile into the fire, "I thought I knew how much he meant to me, given the things we overcame together, before we found this place. But now that he's gone, I feel like I don't have anything left to hold onto. To live for- except maybe for Morgan.""I guess the same goes for me, too," Peter shrugged nonchalantly, eyes never leaving the photo clutched tightly in his hands, the Iron Man mask lying snugly on his lap. "I thought I knew what I was getting myself into, but I ended up dying on the job the first day I became an Avenger."(Or, a small, winding tale of Peter Parker after the final battle, when he comes back from the dead- in which he struggles to get his life back to normal, adjust to a confused world, and try to cope up with the biggest loss in his life-- of the man who gave up his life to save the world, and in turn, ripped away a valuable piece of Peter's own world in the process.)





	Catharsis

**Author's Note:**

> I was HURT at the end of Avengers: Endgame, so I wanted to hurt Spider Man too. Cruel, I know, but I envisioned a happy(ish) ending for him here, after a lot of pain, so I hope it feels real, and you guys can enjoy it, too.
> 
> Happy reading, everyone! :)) Meet you downstairs!

  


_“Peter?”_

  


The air around was thick with the noise and chatter of people- low, rumbling cries and high-pitched screams of joy piercing the once too-silent corridors-, and the atmosphere was brimming to the core with varying degrees of emotion. There were too many people around- groups and hordes of students and teachers alike, crowding around lockers and inside classrooms and under the campus trees, some gesturing animatedly about how they had a sudden short-circuit of memory, and were in a void sense of consciousness now-- while some others were laughing and crying about how glad they were, that they had got their friends back. It was like an overflowing, overwhelming sea of people trying to wash over a tiny island that was this once half-empty high school, and in the middle of this definitely justified chaos, he stood his ground, silent as a shadow, his mind blown at the unbelievable chance he had got at life, and his heart heavy, for all the things that were too hard for him to explain clogging up that temperamental organ. 

His dark blue jacket was crumpled, and his bag felt older, wearier, more worn out than when he had last touched it five years before- though it seemed only yesterday that he had been carrying it around, to get ready for a school trip to New York. Everything felt the same, yet it wasn’t so at the same time, but before he could fall into that old daze of memories and time and reality again, the all too-familiar voice of his friend pulled him out of his stupor.

  


”Peter, hey Peter,” Ned didn’t seem to have changed at all, from the fat and dimples on his cheeks, to the questionable fashion sense regarding his school attire choices. “Peter, that’s-- man, that’s _you_ , right?”

”Ned,” Peter breathed out, a little bit of feeling seeping back into his hollow bones, and with slow steps, he made his way to where Ned stood, waiting for him with wide eyes and a welcoming smile. As soon as he got near enough, both him and Ned held out their hands on reflex, clapping each other’s palms, bumping fists, and then proceeding to execute their mini-greeting routine just out of sheer habit. By the time they finished, a large smile graced Peter’s lips as well, and without any preamble, he pulled his friend into a bone-crushing, sentimental hug, and together, they began making their way towards the first class they would attend together again after five long years- talking in hushed voices, and thoroughly looking forward to spending the rest of the day like _normal_ , again.

  


_However, to keep something normal, especially when that sense of normalcy had vanished away throughout the globe once, one must pay some prices, make some sacrifices. It is entirely up to a person to decide what they want to sacrifice for their cause, but unfortunately, most people don’t have the privilege to decide **who** gets to sacrifice, and **what**._

  


/ / /

  


”So, tell me everything- where did you fight Thanos? How did it feel like? Like, were all the Avengers with you, or—no wait, the most important question is, _how did you guys even win?_ ”

  


They had been talking about things- like the Snap, and Thanos, and inter-galactic battles, and the predicament of the people on Earth who found themselves suddenly without fifty percent of their population-, and after discussing about sombre matters all day, their conversation had drifted onto lighter topics as of now. _Comparatively lighter,_ at least.

”It’s a really, really long story Ned,” Peter said as he reclined back into the canteen chair, a forlorn smile pulling at his lips. “It’d take a very long time to explain, and besides, I’m confused about some of the parts myself.” Truthfully, even if he remembered, he really didn't want to talk about it, not even with Ned. It was too much to think about, and the topic was better being avoided, for now. Especially when the scars felt too real to be true for him, still.

”Yeah, I get it man,” Ned acquiesced easily, popping a coffee-flavoured toffee into his mouth and imitating Peter’s posture. “After the Snap took place, and fifty percent of the people were wiped out, there was so much chaos and confusion- you won’t just believe it. It was almost _weeks_ later that we got to know about what really happened to everybody, when the Avengers came back, and it was frightening. It was terrible, not knowing about what happened to your friends and family-- but after that, it seemed like we were better off not knowing the truth anyways. People came to refer to you guys as 'The Vanished', and it was a sick, horrible mess.”

  


Peter knew about it, had heard enough, had seen enough- but it still felt a little surreal to believe that he had been one of those 'vanished' people too. When he came back to life, it just felt like he was waking up from a deep, age-long sleep. Ned and his mother had been one of the other half of the people who had survived the Snap, and in retrospect, Peter figured that they were one of the lucky ones who got to live. But now, he knew that it had been equally, if not more terrible for these people to adapt to the world without a half of their friends and relatives, and their pain was still palpable, even though everything was seemingly fine now.

The Snap had been undone, and all the people of the world had returned, but even after five years, one could see the pain in the eyes of the survivors- like his own Aunt May, for example. Everything was alright now, but it felt as if these people were still afraid of losing this again, this happiness and these reunions- both Ned and May did, even if they tried to put on brave, cheerful faces-- and it broke Peter's heart just a little, at the burden these people carried, that would take a long time to completely disappear.

And, truth to be told, Peter knew that these survivors weren't the only ones who were scarred from the past- the Vanished had their fair share of incidents too. Peter doesn't think it could compare anything to Ned's pain though, or Aunt May's; actually, his own pain wasn't nearly as much as what any of the Avenger's had gone through themselves.

It did not change the fact that he had not completely recovered from being revived though. And seeing how high the cost his second chance at life had been.

It wasn't a happy thought, or a comforting one, but he didn't know how to organise his thoughts neatly anymore.

  


"Hey there, dorks. Fancy seeing you guys here- when I've been searching for you throughout the _entire school_."

"Michelle," Ned gasped, as Peter turned around in his chair to properly look behind him. Michelle had always been tall, but now she looked thin and frail, which made her look even taller (in just a slightly unhealthy way). Her skin was as freshly tanned as before, her curly, wayward locks falling at one side of her face, with the rest tied back in a ponytail, and overall, there was little change to be found in her appearance, too. Peter observed that her mouth was quirked slightly upwards (as if she was happy to meet them, wordlessly), but her hands came around one another, closing around her body (as if she was unsure about approaching them, even though they had been pretty good friends for quite sometime)- and Peter realised that he was kinda happy to see her too, the familiarity in her voice and behaviour bringing back warm memories from the past, which wasn't completely unwelcome.

"Please, just call me MJ," Michelle said almost on reflex, and Peter gave her a wide, amused smile. 

"Hey there MJ," he said as he pulled out another chair from his side, indicating for the girl to sit down on the table with them. "Care to join us for the last few minutes of lunch break?"

"It's totally your fault for being in such a mundane place while I wasted my entire break on the lookout," Michelle playfully accused them as she sat down on the table, her lips curving into a smirk, her initial shyness breaking away just as easily as it had built. "I'm never talking to any of you if you do this again. What were you guys talking about anyways?"

"Oh, we were just discussing about the Snap," Ned replied, a small, rueful smile on his face, and Peter swore he didn't imagine the sullen look in MJ's eyes for a second. "We've been talking and talking about things the whole day, and I was just telling Peter how the people left had been coping up, before he and the Avengers managed to defeat Thanos and return."

Michelle nodded gravely, as if understanding the situation as well as any other survivor, but before he could say more, Ned's attention was snatched away by the shocked, horrified expression on Peter's face.

Michelle turned to look at Peter, too, confusion etched clearly on her features, and Ned blinked at his friend owlishly, for a moment, before the light bulbs of common sense finally went on in his brain.

"Oops," the boy dumbly remarked, and Peter wanted to combust from inside at the reaction. "Oh, uh, I completely forgot to tell you," Ned said, a hand rubbing at the back of his neck nervously, expression sheepish, "MJ knows about you too. About you being Spider Man, I mean. Like," and here, he lowered his voice to a dramatic whisper, " _I_ told her about that, after the Snap, 'cuz I thought you were dead, and I won't see you ever again. And well... It didn't hurt to tell her then, when you were already gone. I didn't imagine you'd come back, ever, else I'd never... I mean, this makes things a little different now, right...?"

Ned sounded a little unsure at the end, while Michelle's eyes lighted up in understanding. "If you're worried about me sharing your secret," she said to Peter, who seemed torn between comforting his friend and murdering him in cold blood, "then don't be. I kept it for five years, and I'm pretty good at keeping secrets."

Peter buried his face in his hands, the situation too much for him to take in so suddenly. "I'm really glad for that," he said from within his palms, voice muffled as it came out, "Because apparently, my best friend and most trusted accomplice is kinda really crappy at keeping important secrets _secrets_ "

Ned blushed a little, a small guilty smile leaking through, and with amusement in her voice, Michelle said, "Accomplice? What is he, your personal assistant or guide, who looks after you when go around swinging through buildings at night, and lifting buses with your hands?"

"It doesn't sound nearly as cool when you say it like that," Peter said petulantly, while from across the table, Ned exclaimed, "Of course I am! I even helped Peter in catching the Vulture- technically anyways. I'm the best accomplice there can be for Spider Man. The undisputed Guy In The Chair."

It took him a moment to process the underlying information. "She knows about Liz's dad too?" Peter asked incredulously, while Michelle tried not to guffaw at Ned's lively gestures. "Seriously man, did you dictate my whole biography to her or something while I was gone? How much does she _not_ know?"

"In my defence," Michelle said, raising her hand up like a kid too lazy to properly respond to roll-calls, "I'm not going to share this with anybody. Like, of course, I was kinda surprised- _really surprised_ \- when Ned told me you were You-Know-Who," she rolled her eyes exasperatedly here, "But he was holding a tub of chocolate ice-cream in one hand, a Spider Man mask on the other, and crying buckets in the middle of class, so well, I decided to listen, and the story felt realistic enough. If you consider swinging through buildings and lifting buses with your hands realistic."

"He was crying in the middle of _class_ with _ice cream_?" Peter wanted to tear his hair off at the ridiculousness of the story, "Ned, man, _dude_ , where did you even get ice-cream here?"

"It was the day after the Snap," Michelle simply replied, not elaborating further at all, and wow, as if that _did_ explain a lot of things.

"In _my_ defence," Ned said, holding up his hands in a placating gesture, "I was sad, traumatised, and had lost half my family and best friend too suddenly on a bright, sunny, perfectly normal day. I was allowed to have ice cream and talk about my dead best friend whenever and however I wanted."

  


It didn't seem right to joke about it, and it might never feel like it. But that is what they were doing- joking about a global apocalypse like three hormonal, immature little teenagers, and not at all like the survivors of the said apocalypse in more ways than one. They were joking about the Snap, and death, and a lot of disturbing facts in between to keep the air light, to keep themselves from remembering-- so Peter allowed himself to laugh, and Ned and MJ joined in on the hysterics themselves. It felt wrong, so so wrong, but it was the only way left for them to cope.

For five whole years, these people had to try and live- adjust into a society that was as stunted and broken as any could be, and now that it had returned back to its original state, the people had to cope up with it again, and try to live like _normal_ this time around. Both the survivors and the Vanished- their previous situation had became normal for them long ago, and now, being normal seemed like an abnormal concept itself. The world needed a lot of work to do, to build up its foundation bit by bit again, and even though everyone from before the Snap had returned, it was far from the end.

There were a lot of things still left to do. For the survivors, for the Vanished, and for the Avengers- there was too much work left for them to just sit around and think that everything had been solved. Belatedly, Peter came to remember one crucial fact (that didn't seem too crucial at all now) from when the war with Thanos was just originally beginning, and taking in a deep breath, he calmly declared:

  


"Oh, by the way, I forgot to tell you guys- I'm an Avenger now. And _officially_ , this time."

  


/ / /

  


The warm, savoury smell of soup and dinner wafted through the rooms, as Peter unlocked the door to his apartment, and stepped inside the warmth of home with a growling stomach. He, Ned and Michelle had spent a good couple of hours after school roaming around the city, racing on their bicycles, and talking about everything and nothing at once, and all that exertion had left him physically begging for some food, never mind his enhanced spider-metabolism. He felt like there was a literal black hole swirling in his abdomen, trying to devour his insides the longer he deprived himself of some sustenance, and the tasty promise of dinner, and May's happy whistling from the kitchen made him feel better about his situation instantly.

He was just so _hungry_ \- Peter figured that he could devour the whole stock of a McDonald's burgers if someone just _asked_ him to.

  


"Peter, is that you?" Peter heard his aunt before she emerged from the kitchen, but when she did, her neatly combed hair, clouded circular glasses, and surprisingly ironed clothes were a sight to behold. Though not one to advocate uncleanliness or unhygienic lifestyle, Peter swore he had never seen Aunt May look so squeaky clean and presentable at home before. There wasn't even a single crease in her pink, flowery apron, though the smell of Italian takeout indicated she had no use for it at all.

"Hey there buddy," May smiled, and the kindness in her face only reminded Peter of all he could have lost had the Snap not been undone again. All the things May could have lost herself, too. "How's your day at school? I bet everyone was really happy to meet their friends! How's Ned, and Michelle? Did you guys have fun together?"

There was literally nothing _fun_ about school in a teenager's life, except maybe for the academics (which was exclusive only from Peter's point of view), but he understood from where Aunt may came from. It had been a long time, even longer for May, and even though Peter might not realise it, he respected May's struggles enough to see things from her perspective.

After all, she had to struggle as one of the survivors too, when her nephew and only family had ended up being one of the Vanished during a normal, three day trip (which landed him up outside the Earth, eventually).

  


" _School_ , was literally chaos," Peter grinned, as he chucked off his shoes from his feet. Oh, how he had missed the comfort of sneakers in Space. "There was a lot of shouting, and pranks and tears, and even the teachers didn't bother to make us study much today. The Spanish class was literally the most fun I had there in my whole life. And yeah, I hanged out with Ned and MJ after school- we even bought a couple of snacks along the way. It was fun."

"Mm-hm, sounds like a lovely day to me," May said, her eyes crinkling at the corners, gaze fixated solely on Peter alone, "See that you don't overdo the fun though, it could be dangerous," her voice lowered down at the end, as if she didn't even want the presence of that word in Peter's life anymore. She got a lot like this nowadays- slipped into a daze of sad, bad memories, became emotional, and looked as if there was nothing in the world for her, except Peter. If Ned and Michelle's problems had broken his heart, May's sadness and fragile emotional state completely shattered him.

He hadn't expected it when he first came home, and it was still hard to get used to it. May, who had been so happy, carefree, though still overprotective- she looked a whole different from the aunt Peter knew, and he did not want to imagine what things she could have gone through, to make her like this.

"May," he reached out to her, trying to reassure her that yeah, he was here, and he wasn't going anywhere, and that everything would be alright again. He wanted her to know that he was _home_ now, with her, and under the bright kitchen lights, it seemed that May's eyes glistened with something horribly similar to salty moisture.

"Oh well, so much for trying to act _normal_ ," May rubbed at her eyes furiously, her voice broken, her glasses askew; and pulling open her arms wide, she sniffled a little, and said, "Come'ere and give me a hug, Pete."

Peter ran towards her in one swift motion, and soon, he was wrapping his arms tightly around the slightly smaller frame of his aunt. Hugging the only family he had ever known and loved, tightly to his chest. May's shoulders quaked with muffled sobs- she had been having difficulty believing Peter's return since the Snap was undone, had been having trouble controlling her paranoia, and this the least of what Peter had seen her going through the last few days. So Peter hugged her tighter still, wanting to protect what was left of her with all he had, and wishing to never let go. He was Spider Man- this should be easy enough for him to accomplish.

  


(In reality, Peter knew that he couldn't save everyone, even when he loved them dearly, and even if he was Spider Man. Sometimes, people chose to go down a path that will lead them to their death, and however strong he was, or however he wanted them to _not die_ , in the end, it couldn't be helped anyways.

The small, quaint funeral he and May had attended days prior, which witnessed the death of not one but two, no, _three_ brave, brave heroes, bore testament to this harsh, cruel fact- Peter could save nobody, if the person didn't _want_ to be saved themselves.)

  


"Hey May, let's eat now, okay?" Peter whispered softly, as May's sobs slowly subsided after a few minutes, "It'd be a shame to let that delicious takeout go cold already, y'know?"

"What, are you always hungry or something?" May replied in a jest, her smile watery, but her eyes less sad than before. "Though you're right, we shouldn't let the food run cold so fast. Come help me serve, will you?"

She squeezed his hand one last time before she headed for the kitchen, smiling weakly, as if apologising for the apparent scene she'd caused- and though Peter wanted to shout that she had nothing to apologise to him for, he kept his mouth shut, and followed her wordlessly. At least May was feeling better now, and that was all he could ask for at the moment.

  


(There was no denying the fact- Peter was helpless, even though he was Spider Man. Because apparently, enhanced superpowers don't work well when you're dealing with real, human emotions, and Peter had to deal with them the human way. He had to deal with it the way he knew he was helpless, with every other people, over and over and _over_ again, and he could do absolutely nothing about it.)

  


/ / /

  


Peter admitted that he was helpless with people, but during the nights, he became helpless with himself, too. And his situation began to feel hopeless. It has been a couple of weeks since he returned- school was going fine, friendships were restored, and May was getting better again-, but contrary to popular belief, it seemed that more the time passed, the more Peter felt himself slip away from his own conscience.

It hadn't mattered much at first. All around him, there were people who needed his help, or needed to heal, or both. Ned and Michelle wanted to spend the entire day with him, lest they realise that it had been a cruel day dream all along, and May didn't let Peter out of her sight the entire day time he was home. They went out shopping, and for dinner together on the weekends, in the midst of which Peter slipped into his masked alter-ego often, to help a couple of people in need. In brief, his first few days back on Earth were busy, full of company, and with very little time allotted to himself. As a result, his mind was invested less in thinking and self-introspection, and thus, he had no problem in believing that he had managed to adopt to the lull of normalcy in the last few days again.

  


His delusions broke on the first day he went out alone to shop for groceries for May, after about a week since his revival. It was a pretty easy trip, no runaway goons or bank robbers trying to fight the police that peaceful evening, and with a small smile on his face, Peter had let himself reminisce about the warmth and sense of companionship these last week had brought to his life. He remembered meeting Ned at school every morning, hanging out with Michelle around the campus at noon, and spending intimate, homey evenings with May at the dinner table. He remembered stepping into the school for the first time, and he remembered things before that. He remembered the time he had sneaked out of the bus in New York and caught himself a trip to Space, but then it was going too far in the past to remember, so he rewound back a little.

Which led him to remember the only significant event that had took place before he went to school, and after he came back from Space- Mr Stark's funeral. All at once, it was like a dam of memories had opened, the waters a dark, murky grey instead of the crystal-clear liquid it was supposed to be, and he didn't really remember how and when he had finished shopping for the items, and returned back home to face May with the mask of a happy, content boy.

All he remembered now was what he had thought of that evening, and about how horrible the first night had been. He couldn't just stop thinking about it, too. It was well past a good few days now, but the dreams didn't stop, nor the fear, nor the memories, and nor the pain. Especially not the pain.

God, it hurt _so much_

  


_"You screwed the pooch hard, big time. But then you did the right thing. You took the dog to the free clinic, you raised the hybrid puppies-- alright, not my best analogy, but... You know what I'm going for, right?"_

  


Tony Stark. Genius, playboy, billionaire, philanthropist. And Iron Man. He was Peter Parker's inspiration. And mentor. And friend. And a very valuable part _of his whole fucking world_.

The _late_ Tony Stark. One of the two deceased, and three incapacitated members of Avengers. The one who held six Infinity stones in his nano-tech gauntlet despite being a human with a genius mind. He was the one the one who saved Peter's life- the one who saved the entire life on Earth, and held the Snap from redoing itself again.

The one who gave up his life for the world. And lastly, the one who tore away a piece of Peter's world by giving away his life, his sacrifice for the world in turn sacrificing a part of Peter's own life too. Which was unfair, even though it gave Peter a chance at life again, even after death, and to a lot more people.

Because that torn part could never be pieced together again. Mr Stark would never, ever come back- he would never come back from the dead like Peter had. He would never come back to this world as Iron Man, trying to save the common people of big and small threats that Spider Man still tries to do, even after everything, and Peter doesn't want to remember. He didn't want to remember him, or his death, or anything in between in the first place, but now that he had started to, he just can't stop. Even if he wants to, those dreams won't let him. Those _nightmares_ won't leave him alone.

He wanted Mr Stark back. He wanted Iron Man to come back, in any way possible, by any means necessary. He wanted the other heroes to come back, too, but he wanted Tony Stark to come back the most. People might think that the world was normal again, that the Snap was undone, but in reality, nothing could be normal, if such a vital part of their world was simply missing from existence.

The people around him believed this world to be normal, but Peter's life could never turn back there if Mr Stark was absent from it. Even if he lost all his memories, even if he forgot Peter entirely, even if he wasn't a genius or Iron Man himself- Peter wanted Mr Stark to come back, because without him, his world would never be normal. He had been trying to help people be alright again, but he couldn't help himself here, and there was no one around who would understand. He just wanted only one thing- for Mr Stark to come back, so that this pain would go away, and his life could turn back right, again.

Inside his head, Peter knew that a dead man could never come back to life, at least if it weren't for the Infinity stones. He had accepted that fact long ago, and there was no logic left to attack it with.

However, his dreams kept on reminding him of a baseless possibility, of a futile hope, and came back at him with excruciating, mind-numbing pain, _torture_. And his dreams came from inside his head, too.

His mind was contradicting itself, his thoughts were tangling up, his systems short-circuiting. And among it all, even though he knew it couldn't happen, he just wished and begged and wished that Mr Stark _would just return_.

And feeling no possible outlet for this madness, for this pain to escape, Peter let it swirl and stew inside him, until the pain washed away whatever sanity was left inside him, and left him with only a hollow shell of his person from another life.

The first night had been the hardest, he could admit it honestly. But now, even two moths later, it felt as if each night was like the first one all over again.

Peter was afraid to close his eyes nowadays. He couldn't let himself inside his head and lose it all. But at the end of each day, he did, he always did. He let himself fall, and then, there was no escaping it.

Peter really wished to do something about it, but he knew there wasn't anything he could do. He was helpless, wasn't he? He was helpless, and hopeless, both when it came to himself, and to other people. So he just let things be, and carried on with his life, still trying to act like _this_ normal world was _his_ normal world as well, even though it wasn't, not by a long shot.

At the end of each day, Peter found himself just as scared to close his eyes, as he had been on the first night, since maybe forever. He couldn't live like this anymore.

  


/ / /

  


"Peter, I can't let this go on anymore," May's voice was stern, but she sounded wary, and exhausted. Was that kind of a combination even possible? "This has been going for months now. I don't know where you go, and I don't know where you spend the night nowadays, and even if you're Spider Man, I can't- _won't_ \- allow it."

Peter shuffled wordlessly with his shoes, feeling guilty for making May mad at him, but wishing her sermon to be over with regardless. He was exhausted, drained of both physical and mental energy, and school was beginning to tire him out recently. The steady spiral of his emotions into depression wasn't helping to make the situation any easier, and he just wanted to get out of the house and get some air. Maybe swing between some buildings, or search for some petty goon to beat up or arrest just for the fun of it. And maybe, spend the night outside, over random rooftops or on fire-escape staircases, looking at the stars and wishing a way to rewind back his life. There was so much to explore of Queens still, and the nighttime was his refuge from the tiring normalcy and those ugly, nostalgic dreams.

_Nightmares._

"Peter, are you listening to me?" May raised her voice an octave higher, and the tone compelled Peter to turn around and face her, his expression carefully blank, but twisted with a twinge of ire and desperation. "I'll come back soon May. I won't spend the night out again, Okay? I promise," he replied quickly, lowly, wishing that his aunt would accept the lie and be done with this topic already.

"Oh, that isn't going to work on me anymore, young man," Peter had used this excuse more than a number of times before, and this time, May caught his lie spot on. "I won't fall for your promises again, and you are not to go out of the house at night anymore. Even Happy is worried about you, Pete."

Her voice softened at the end, but it only flared up a fire of annoyance inside Peter. "Happy?" he harshly asked, not bothering to check the quality of his tone anymore. "What's Happy got to do anything with this? How'd he even know I was going out, anyway? Do you share everything about me since you started dating him, May?"

"Peter, what are you-" May's voice was a breath away from a shout, but she restrained herself from an outburst quickly. Lowering her voice a little, body visibly shaking from angry, suppressed emotions, she said, "Peter Parker, I don't give a _damn_ about what you think of me and Happy dating, and you very well know he genuinely cares about you. I don't know what's up with you lately, but since you won't share it with me, I won't ask you to. I'm just telling you that you will not be going out that door tonight, or _any other_ night, and until you get your things sorted, no Spidey duties for you during the evenings."

  


Peter wanted to scream and shout at the unfairness of it all, surprised beyond wits at how May could say things like that and block the only salvation he had found in his life to escape his nightmares, _when she didn't even know a thing about what was happening to him_. He felt clipped, his pretty picture of freedom shattered before he even touched it, but before he could open his mouth and retort in a definitely rude, definitely wrong, hot-headed manner, May held up a hand and said, "And don't even try to argue with me, because I won't budge on this until you've sorted yourself out. You'll be in for a serious punishment if you try to sneak out of here, so quietly come inside and have dinner now. I'm here for you, so if you want, you can tell me anything. But no going out tonight."

Her words were meant to be comforting, supportive, but they only served to fuel the rage that wreaked Peter's mind now. May didn't have any right to do this to him- she didn't know just how much pain he had to go through every single night- and he knew there was no use in talking it out with anybody. However much she wanted to help, Peter knew May wouldn't be able to understand his pain, his situation, his experiences, and his regret, and he didn't want an ounce of pity or sympathy he would get for this later. He just needed to be left alone for some time, in peace- and even though he knew that his current lifestyle was not something a healthy teenager should be actually proud of, May didn't have any right to intrude in it. He could handle himself, _goddamnit_ , and even though he wasn't exactly in his best shape, he was _doing just fine_.

Gritting his teeth, and hands clenching into fists, Peter threw his sneakers off on the doorway, and instead of going to the kitchen as May instructed, he went straight up to his room, and locked himself in. He half-expected May to follow after him, knocking at his door for him to come out and have dinner, but there was no noise to be heard from outside- for which he was thankful for-, and chugging off his hoodie over his head, Peter discarded his clothes violently around the room, and threw himself down on the lower mattress of his bunk bed.

His head throbbed, and his hands itched to do something (like maybe clench into a fist and take-down a Thanos-size guy, only less dangerous, or hold onto his webs while swinging through the air). His irritation gave way to desperation and numbness soon enough, and with startling clarity, Peter found himself going through the recent turns his life had taken, and about what could happen ahead of this.

  


It had all started with the memories resurfacing, and with those dreams. It had made him disoriented at first, agonised, the pain inside feeling a thousand times greater than what it was now. Even though a lot of time had passed, the things inside his head had only steadily jumbled over and over, twisting and gnarling with vicious teeth and gripping claws to attack Peter when he was the most vulnerable. He had been unable to find some sort of a footing then, some sort of an escapade, and it had only turned downhill from there.

Instead of hiding under a mask and helping people, bashing his fists into a petty criminal, and trying to release his pain in any possible way while being Spider Man had begun to take more priority. He had started getting into fights often, or sometimes even deliberately started one- but each time he emerged as the bruised, bloody hero from the shadows of a random alley, a little bit of his sanity seemed to die inside him, again and again.

He couldn't escape the demons inside him, so he tried to forget them any way possible.

Peter was addicted to these kinds of nights now. When he was not getting into a fistfight somewhere, Spider Man could be seen flying over houses and bridges and trees, the exhilaration and slight vertigo often causing a dizzy feeling in his head, but his body never stopping. Peter used to do this before too, when things were okay and there wasn't the threat of a population reduction looming over their heads. Those times, he would have flown for some time, then took a break over a tree or a rooftop railing, just sitting quietly, thinking about things, and enjoying the scenery set in front of him. He saved those times for the evenings, when the mundane part of his life was over, and his time as a superhero was coming to a close. May expected him back home by nine anyways.

But these moments weren't like those old ones, and they weren't what he needed. Now, Peter just wanted to forget, to stop thinking, to not let his mind get even an inch over his situation. And to do that, he let himself drown in the rush and adrenaline of the mid-air stunts, uncaring if he was going against the very principles he had set on himself the first time he started out, and if the bruises marring the skin under his t-shirts were more than usual, no one really needed to know about them.

  


God, he was destroying himself. Peter was destroying his life with his very own hands, and he could see that. He could see that, but still, he just couldn't stop. He _would not_ stop. It was driving him crazy, this constant war between his mind and his insanity, and in between this chaos, May just had to butt in and offer the last sacrificial ember into the glowing fire of his own burning consciousness.

  


She just had to come in and take away the only source of normalcy Peter had found in his life, even when he _had everything under control_.

(Truthfully, he _did not_ have _anything_ under control.)

The fire glowed a bright, eerie orange, and with one last breath, it swelled up a thousand times its size, and burnt away every single shred of sanity that had been tethering Peter to the edges of right, wrong and reality.

  


He jumped out of his bed, his mind set, and in a frenzied fashion, he put his clothes back on, and shoved an extra set of pants and hoodie into his old backpack. He rummaged through the drawers and put in a torch, his Spider Man suit, a water bottle, some half-empty snack packets, and his wallet inside the bag as well, and without taking a minute to even consider the rationality of the plan, Peter opened the panes of his room's window and jumped.

He fell noiselessly onto their backyard, and with stealthy, careful steps, he climbed over the wall that separated the garden from the road, and without looking back even once, he began making his way to the nearest, busy road intersection as fast as possible.

He had purposefully left his phone on his table, with nothing but a scribbled note of apology for May, and he was done looking back now. He knew what he wanted to do, where he wanted to go, and in a last desperate attempt to find some sort of salvation inside, Peter knew that if this last try wasn't going to get him anywhere, he might as well give up trying to fix his life, and lose all hope of being the same ever again.

He missed Mr Stark, and he wanted to see him again. The videos in his tape recorder had since grown stale with a broken rewind button, and he needed something more concrete, more real now. There was only one place he knew was left for him to try, and even though he wasn't a fan of this idea, Peter knew that Mr Stark would have never wanted for Peter to lead a life like this. 

He even gave up his life to bring him back again- the least Peter could do was to respect his choices, and see that his death was not just in vain.

So, for Tony Stark, Peter decided to try. For one last time. 

  


(But he still wanted Tony back though, and it wasn't the last time he would feel like that, too.)

  


**Author's Note:**

> This was originally supposed to be a one-shot, but it was beginning to get too long, so I cut it down. In the Spiderman: Far from home trailer, there is this cut that implies that May and Happy might have a liking towards each other, so I decided to incorporate it here like... this. Also, Peter's line in the summary is inspired by a comment I saw on Youtube in a vid of Endgame, so a big thanks to that amazing, creative person who inspired me with their idea!
> 
> (Actually, I'm just a bit dissatisfied with this chap, but I'm gonna post the second one and back to it for a final reading. I just couldn't wait to start on this.../nervous laugh/)
> 
> I hope this chapter was interesting enough for people to wait for the next part, and if you liked this, I would love to hear about your views in the comments! Thanks for reading, and see you next time~ !
> 
> Have a good day/night, wherever you are! :))


End file.
